A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

 #23200  by Roger Donoghue
Roger knew that this wasn't his usual story, especially since his past. But he felt like it was time to get out of the dire gossip and harsh intrigue - sometimes, it was nice to just speak about something nice. In this case, he had been asked to interview Louis Hadley and Lidia Ostrivnyj on their progress with a brand new ballet. Or a play. One of the two. Either way, there was a story and some dancing.

He seated himself at a coffee shop, notepad ready, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His sight really had gotten worse over the years. As he waited, her pressed two sunflower seeds into his mouth, chewing slowly. It was a habit he had never been able to break, but he hoped it wasn't too off-putting. After all, it was the only thing from stopping him lighting a cigarette, and apparently that was frowned upon in a public establishment. Pft. Seeds would have to do.
 #23217  by Louis Hadley
He felt his stomach churn as the coffee shop came into view. "Are you nervous?" He asked Lidia though his eyes remained on the fading sign. He wasn't, his stomach churning was just a symptom of apparition, he told himself. He was an intern at the Prophet, his mother had been its Editor in Chief for the better part of his childhood, the prospect of answering a few questions by a journalist who's tea order he probably knew by heart was not something that played on his nerves. Right?

"I think I might spew," he mumbled a few steps away from the establishment. Apparently his nerves really were getting to him.
 #24277  by Lidia Ostrivnyj
"Yes," Lidia responded immediately, honestly. Reporters had always put her on edge, and she had done her very best to stare clear of them her whole career. Letting her work speak for itself, until recently that is. Not two years ago she had sat down across from Evelyn Winters, ex-editor-in-chief of The Daily Prophet and talked about herself in a way she had never done so before. It had been awfully revealing but not even the french woman's barge of questions could prepare her for the photo shoot that had come after.

Tangling her fingers in the tassels that tied her belt together, she glanced at the boy, "Take your time. We still have a little bit until we are supposed to meet Mr. Donoghue."
Last edited by Lidia Ostrivnyj on 07 Apr 2019, 16:00, edited 1 time in total.
 #24294  by Louis Hadley
Louis ran towards the nearest alley, kneeled next to an empty bin and evacuated the content of his stomach. After a few violent yet dry contraction of his innards, he dared to get back up. After wiping his brow with the back of his hand he dug through his bag to find a charmed towel his mother had once insisted he needed. With the help of a mint and a charmed towel, the boy did his best to regain his composure.

Too ashamed to look at Lidia after the ordeal, the young man left the alley and walked towards the building in silence.
 #24542  by Lidia Ostrivnyj
Following after Louis, her gaze one of concern and possibly adoration, she squeezed his forearm just before he opened the door for her and then slipped by him, the small jingle above her head announcing their arrival.

Recognizing the man they were to meet immediately, Lidia made a beeline for him, crossing the room on three inch Louboutin's, the two-piece garment of forest green brocade severe and unyielding. Lidia Ostrivnyj didn't do interviews, but she would make an exception for the boy who had just appeared at her side.

"Mr. Donoghue? I'm Lidia Ostrivnyj,"
 #25888  by Roger Donoghue
Roger lifted his head at the sound of the bell, placing his writing equipment down for the moment before taking off his glasses to stand and greet the woman.

"Ah, Ms Ostrivinyj. A pleasure to meet you." He glanced around the back of her. "And of course, Mr. Hadley I already know. Please, take a seat - feel free to put any drinks on my bill."

He likely shouldn't have said that; this place could be expensive and the journalism industry was not as well paid as it used to be now that he was too old to be running after vampires.

"So, the dramatic arts. Tell me about what first inspired your interests in them." He spoke, placing his glasses back on his nose and readying his pen.

[ View OOC Note ]
 #26016  by Louis Hadley
Louis tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on his robes before he shook the reporter's hand but given the dizzying warmth emanating from his pores, the young playwright was fairly certain the handshake had been rather moist.

Desperate for refreshments, Louis ordered a glass of ice cold water. Pulling at his collar, the young man sat in front of the journalist. "I, well, there's, It's..." He stuttered nervously. Desperate for a bit of guidance he looked towards his partner.

"I'm sorry," he apologized though he wasn't willing to admit to being nervous. Journalists were ruthless, nervosity was a weakness they used against their victim. He took a deep breath and restarted. "I think my interest comes from a reluctance to remain invisible. I don't mean that as in craving recognition it's more that from a young age I realized that some stories were less commonly told than others. I grew up with two mums and rarely could I really see my family represented in my favorite books and plays. " Louis shifted in his seat slightly as doubt started creeping inside his mind. Was he being too personal too soon? Would the reporter turn his answer into a sort of pathological need to flaunt his unusual upbringing? "The dramatic arts allow me to share stories that are less commonly told." He summarized, hoping Lidia would now take the lead.